Just Between Us Girls
by BebopSamurai
Summary: A series of Kill Bill yuri drabbles for the 10 Lilies LJ community. Rating to be safe.ORen x Gogo up.
1. She's Not There

Title: She's Not There

Fandom: Kill Bill

Prompt: #1 - Unexpected News

Characters/Pairings: Elle/Beatrix one-sided, implied Bill/Beatrix

Rating: R for violence, imagined sexuality

Summary: Elle hated her, hated her because it was easier--in that moment--to do so.

* * *

The Black Mamba's screams of pain echo through the dusty stillness of the chapel, but it's far enough that no one in Two Pines will know what's happened for hours.

In spite of herself Elle feels it tug at her chest, at the single heartstring remaining on the busted and neglected guitar of her soul. And yet when Beatrix half-falls half-stumbles in her direction, kicked around in a semicircle by the other Deadly Vipers in a twisted perversion of the childhood game of keep-away, it makes her slam the heel of her shoe even deeper into the former assassin, sending her to another of her comrades to further the torture.

Despite the twanging of that tone, strained and incessant at her core, the one-eyed blonde trusts in her anger, hating the ruined bride all the more with each of her whimpers. It's no less than what she deserves, Elle tells herself. But what truly fuels her hate is that her fellow assassins-- even Budd-- are only here at the behest of their leader. She had more than enough thoughts on how to torture Beatrix than simply shooting everyone in the building. On her own, she could've made the traitor feel such agony that a shot between the eyes would have been a blessing. But then that was her feelings talking. She didn't need them, they made things complicated, the last thing the greatest band of modern killers the world had ever known would need to do their job.

She didn't need or want them, but Beatrix had made her HAVE them.

She hadn't trusted Bill's judgement at first when he brought her to the fold at first, thinking her too scrawny, too innocent with her big blue eyes, to last for long in their world. But alongside her she had seen a warrior-- a rutlessness and clear mind that more than made up for her inefficiency and inaccuracy with a shotgun.

Elle had felt a connection with Beatrix, a sort of unspoken trust after the first mission Bill had sent them on together. She remembered teasing the rookie for favoring guns over swords. Beatrix said that she'd never completely liked them in combat, only when they were used in the old kung-fu movies she'd snuck into as a street urchin. And then the blonde had smiled-- such a strange, mysterious and undeniably mischevious grin-- that Elle had almost forgotten what they were even doing here. Their jobs, she recalled reluctantly. So she kept it professional, never acting on the brief impulse she'd had at that moment.

But Beatrix had stayed close to her long after that, gleaning advice and direction, the proper way to clean her gun, reluctantly learning to to fight with a Chinese blade. She never told Beatrix that steel polish was hard to clean off hands, and so she'd come to love it when the younger of the two sat at a table, her sapphire eyes glued to the endless rows of springs and levers at hand with precision and utter concentration, the smell of polish on her hands more potent that the most expensive perfume. Not that Beatrix ever spent her hard-earned money on scented water anyway.

It wasn't enough that she became so talented, so confident and brilliant at their vocation as she got older. Beatrix had simply blossomed into womanhood, her body slender and curved in all the right ways but still radiated the strength that had quickly put her at the top of the Deadly Viper's ranks. But still she and Elle fought together, more often on their own than with the others, the two that Bill trusted over O-Ren and Vernita, even his own brother. But when Beatrix walked out of the motel shower when they shared a room, her hair dripping wet in an effort to get the blood and shame off her body, all Elle wanted to do was drag her against the wall, screw her until she screamed her name, tasting every inch she could of Beatrix until she whispered that she could take no more, then screw her again until their plane back to Bill arrived. It got to the point where Elle was ready to have her on their next mission, protests and obligations be damned.

But the next time Beatrix went alone. And when she came back Bill grinned that 'lady-killer' grin at her, sliding a hand along the small of her back that her own smile made clear she didn't take offense at. So Elle let it go. After all, as Bill had made clear in not so many words, anyone who went against him wasn't likely to live for more than a week. And if she so much as laid a finger on Beatrix now they'd both be dead in minutes. She was his woman now, and even though she didn't like it, even though she had been by Beatrix's side for so many years and it tore at the thing in her chest she'd only now realized was her heart, she could understand. She was a professional.

And then she was gone, not more than a few years after that. That was worse, the fear that gripped her, that something had happened to her she couldn't do anything about.

But then Bill had called them all together, telling them they had a very important assignment, that Beatrix Kiddo was a traitor and was hiding in a little Texas town called Two Pines. Elle had felt a chill run down her spine then, a sudden, reckless feeling that if it came to her betraying all that she'd known for so long to protect her she'd do it, or at least die trying.

But then she'd seen her, radiant and surprisingly elegant in a simple wedding gown, her belly swollen, and suddenly Elle understood why Bill had been so utterly furious.

She'd wanted to know why, wanted to ask her, wanted to say a million things to her face in that moment. But instead she'd gone completely numb, only aware of the machine gun in her hand, the sounds of gunfire and the too-familiar scent of blood permeating the air. She'd hit her with such relish and violence because it had been the only thing, in that daze of mixed, unspoken feelings and rote duty, that felt right to do.

She'd wanted to cry as she watched Beatrix beaten and defeated on the ground, lying in a pool of her own blood and spit and sweat and tears. Had wanted to turn her gun on Bill as he stood over her, menacing and vicious in the way that only someone completely heartbroken could be. But she'd turned away with the rest of them, the sound of a single, close-range magnum bullet shattering the unearthly quiet that had remained, and washing away the remains of her own broken soul like a wave breaking against the sand.

To this day that sound haunts her nightmares, though she would never admit it. And so she waits, four years later, for the only woman-- only person-- on this planet that she'd go to the grave without regret for.


	2. Disobedience

Title: Disobedience

Fandom: Kill Bill

Prompt: #2 - Raincloud

Characters/Pairings: O-Ren/Gogo

Rating: R for smex

Summary: O-Ren is fatigued and preoccupied with her duties, and Gogo wants to relieve her ennui-- even if, for once, it means going against her mistress.

* * *

The schoolgirl allowed the smallest of anticipatory grins on her typically stoic face as she knocked on the shoji, a silken voice telling her calmly to enter. Gogo slid the flimsy door open, bowing low and akwardly as she crossed the threshold. She wasn't used to showing respect in such a humble way, not even to her own parents. They were weak, pathetic, and if she didn't need to keep up the pretense of being just another trendy teenage- Shibuya girl, they'd be lying in a pool of their own blood. Not at all like her true master, the only woman in the world that she'd gladly bow to.

"Ah, Gogo. There's a few people I'd like for you to take care of for me tonight-- the addresses are all at the end of the desk... though I have a feeling you won't be needing them."

The girl smirked at her mistresses' observation as she looked at the information to find O-Ren, undeniably, correct. Buisnessmen, patrons at the bar where she hung out on her off-days to troll for skirt-chasing blood bags. She hated men as a general rule, but those kind were the worst-- dirty old perverts who'd drop their keys just for an opportunity to look up her skirt, reluctant to go back to their unfulfilled lives and worthless careers and shriveled old wives. It was a mercy to kill them, she thought reluctantly, though unlike actual mercy it was a lot more enjoyable. But it was five now, and if possible her twisted grin got a little wider. She loosened her skirt, but not completely-- she wanted to give O-Ren the satisfaction of telling her to strip, and that initial rush of her mistresses' power washing over her always made Gogo a little impatient.

The crime boss glanced up from her paperwork at the sight, a somewhat reluctant crease on her flawless brow contorting her otherwise implacable face. "...I've no time for that tonight-- I'm a bit busy. Come back tomorrow."

The teen felt the slight sting of rejection at her master's words, and though she knew better than to disobey so direct an order, Gogo lingered to get a slightly closer look at O-Ren. She kept leafing through the sheafs of paper before her, signing off on something occasionally or else making notes when a particularly vague bit of wording made her suspicious. O-Ren had been aware of her protege's staring, but someone with such a high-stress occupation can only take such scrutiny for so long. She looked up to find a rare hint of worry in the girl's eyes, which lessened her frustration. But only slightly.

"I'm quite well, Gogo. But this is pressing business, and I'll see to you tomorrow."

As much as O-Ren's bodyguard hated the idea of angering her, she had been waiting for this too long, and coupled with the obvious stress and fatigue threatening to wrinkle her mistresses' gorgeous face, Go-Go didn't think she could just let this go. She picked up her assignment papers but then sighed as she dropped them, hiding a smile when a few slid beneath the desk. O-Ren caught the teen's clumsiness, and thinking nothing of it in her growing frustration she simply shook her hand.

"Go on-- pick them up and leave." Gogo almost didn't go ahead with her own hastily-conceived plan; the Yakuza princess' eyes were already beginning to burn with that cold fire she'd seen upon decapitating Boss Tanaka, and if she pushed her luck O-Ren wouldn't hesitate to do the same to her. Crawling under the desk, it was clear that O-Ren didn't suspect a thing, as she felt the former assassin's leg twitch when she swiftly lifted the hem of her pitch-black kimono, kissing the inside of a pale thigh.

O-Ren felt herself tense slightly at the unexpected sensation of lips and teeth on her skin, but it didn't take her more than a second to realize who was responsible. She reached under the desk and found the schoolgirl's head, and grabbing a fistful of brown hair she pulled, intending to bring her up, punish her for such disobedience. To her surprise Gogo didn't instantly capitulate, instead moving closer to lay another vicious kiss higher up on her right leg, hitting one of her mistresses' few sensitive spots and recieving the slightest but most gratifying of gasps in return for her efforts. She moved to the unattended thigh, nibbling in a line that stopped just outside her master's lower lips, then went teasingly in reverse, trying to bite lightly enough to cause sensation but hard enough to get a reaction. From under the desk she could just barely see the slight rise and fall of O-Ren's chest beneath her robe; her breathing was increasing just a bit, but she remained frozen, as if trying to deliberate whether or not she'd allow her bodyguard to continue. Gogo wanted to be patient, to wait for her lady's command to proceed, but the scent hitting her from between those perfect legs was too strong, too enticing for her conditioned mind to resist. Gogo felt a sharp gasp as she buried her face into O-Ren's core, stroking from hip to knee as she licked at her languidly, like a kitten savoring its favorite milk.

O-Ren did not moan loudly, didn't scream, didn't start babbling nonsensical words or any of the things Gogo's other playthings did when she went down on them. The only sign she got that she was pleasing her mistress was the irregular intake of breath-- heavy but controlled at the same time-- and the winding of powerful fingers in her hair, switching randomly between stroking encouragingly or forcing her head deeper, nails digging into her scalp not with mad passion but authoritative power.

For her part O-Ren had stopped paying attention to her paperwork and had focused completely on the adoration she was receiving, wrapping her legs around Go-Go's head, the better to accompany the roving hands that were now massaging her rear with lustful abandon. As that little tongue went deeper and the Yakuza had to hold back a groan she wondered why she'd never thought of this before. There was something so unreal about the whole thing-- about her little murderous vixen unabashedly eating her out under her own desk, during business no less-- that made it incredibly erotic. Gogo was lapping her juices up with such zeal now that she nearly doubled over on the desk, muttering curses that flowed from English to Japanese and back with such fluidity that she may as well have been possessed.

"Ishii-sama?"

O-Ren blinked, but spoke with a surprisingly strong voice when she'd come back to reality enough to do so.

"Sofie-- Wh-what is it?" Her right-hand woman paused, as if suspecting by the nearly indescernable gasp in her leader's voice that 'something' was going on, but said nothing in regard to it.

"...Bosses Kawamoto and Honda are here to see you. They say they're here to negotiate the size of their territor--"

"Send them off."

"...They have been waiting quite a long while already-- and you made an appointment with them yesterday."

"I KNOW..." O-Ren whispered into her speakerphone with undeniable venom in her voice, one beffiting the Cottonmouth, "...who I make arrangements with. I don't need idiots like that to remind me of such things." Gogo paused for a moment, grinning at the wonderfully oppressive tone in her mistresses' voice, but a pair of bare heels ground into her back, a silent order to continue while O-Ren spoke. "Now... tell them that they must wait until next week to consult with me. And if I so much as hear the word 'gang violence' between then and now I'll have both their goddamned heads for trophies."

"Of course, Ishii-sama," Sofie said into the reciever, a bit of a smile in her voice at the reminder of her lady's unbreakable iron fist. "...Forgive me for disturbing you."

O-Ren simply switched the line off, letting out a gasp as Gogo's suckling on her clit got faster, while her heels digging into the teen's back sent waves of pleasure equally through her as well. Gogo slid one of her hands out from underneath O-Ren's leg and prepared to satisfy the wet ache between her own thighs when she stopped. As aroused as she knew she was, the girl wasn't foolish enough to think that this was a mutual thing. She only cared about satisfying the woman before her, about giving her as much pleasure as she possibly could. And when O-Ren's legs tightened around her head, the warm honey gushing freely into her mouth, she didn't forget who was in charge. Her mistress submitted to no one, physically or in any other way; her orgasm was simply a reward for Gogo, and like the loyal dog she was she happily accepted the treat, lapping with her tongue to ensure that she hadn't missed a single drop.

It only took the Yakuza overlord a second to catch her breath, and less time to pull her bodyguard out from under the desk and slam her onto the hard wooden surface, her dark brown eyes boring into Gogo as she drew her blade and pressed the razor edge against the girl's slender neck.

"...If you hadn't been so...enthusiastic..." O-Ren whispered with just a hint of a mischevious smile in her voice mixed with overwhelming power, "...I wouldn't hesitate to slit your throat. So do NOT think that you'll get away with disobeying me again. Is that clear?"

It took Gogo a moment to respond, as she was rarely used to being on the recieving end of her mistresses' fury, and actually facing it rather than derisively mocking someone else who was that unlucky actually made her fear for her own life. Somehow she managed a nod, beads of sweat running down her face even after O-Ren had pulled her katana away, sliding the weapon back into its scabbard with a single, lightning-quick motion.

"I will, however, grant you this," O-Ren said calmly as Gogo finally gathered her papers and prepared to leave. "...Your technique has certainly improved."

The girl thought for a moment that she caught the slightest hint of a satisfied smile on her master's face, but not wanting to run the risk of ruining her good humor Gogo left with a bow, sliding the shoji carefully shut as she departed.


End file.
